Alien Child by Pamela Sargent Page B

out about my parents now, but I’m afraid to. I guess I just don’t want to hear that the two people who created me went off to kill other people and die, and that’s what I’d find out. In a way, it’s easier if I don’t hear it.”
    That was true, she thought. The cryonic facility still frightened her; the prohibition Llipel had placed on her was still strong. She was afraid to confront the room where potential members of her kind were suspended between life and nonexistence; she shrank from learning of the two parents who had left her there. She did not want to stand in a place that would remind her that only chance and a mistake had enabled her to live at all.
    “How can we stay here, Sven?” she asked. “Where can we go?”
    “We can’t leave yet, not until we know more about how to survive.” He drew his brows together. “Trouble is, we don’t know what they might be able to do. They learned a lot here—they may have ways to protect themselves we don’t know about. They might have weapons on their ship.”
    “Maybe we’re wrong,” she said desperately, wanting to wish away her suspicions. “Maybe we are just imagining things. We don’t want to believe that our people were the only ones who could do evil things, and now we’re coming up with reasons to see our guardians as enemies.”
    He gripped her arm. “Listen, whether we’re right or wrong about this, the only safe thing to do is to protect ourselves somehow. If we’re right, we have to figure out a way to escape them, and if we’re wrong, it won’t matter.” He let go of her and rested his chin against his knee. “Let’s assume that they kept some secrets just to protect us, and that they’re honest about not knowing why they’re here. Maybe they are as kind as they seem. They might not hurt us, but that doesn’t mean others of their kind couldn’t. They might just be waiting until it’s time.”
    “I’ve been feeling that Llipel’s watching me more,” she admitted. “I never really feared that before—it only annoyed me once in a while.” She bowed her head. “I don’t want to believe any of this, and then I think of what Llare said.”
    “At least we’re together in this, Nita. They don’t know what we think yet. As long as they don’t, we’ve got some time.” He was silent for a moment. “I wish we had weapons of some kind, just in case. If they have a time for fighting, too, they may not be able to control their actions.”
    She grimaced, sick at the thought. “Well, there aren’t any weapons here.”
    “How do we know? We never asked the mind. Somehow, considering what I know about our people, I can’t believe they wouldn’t have had weapons of some sort here.” He stood up, then helped her to her feet. “We’d better go and find out.”
     
     
    The desks inside the lobby’s transparent booth held small screens that lay flat against the desktops. Sven lifted one screen until it locked into place.
    “If we’re going to explore the forest,” he said, “we may need some way to protect ourselves against dangerous animals. Are there any weapons here?”
    “You are not authorized to have that information,” the mind replied. “I cannot answer.”
    “But I have authorization,” Sven protested.
    “I see no security guard’s medallion.”
    Sven tapped his fingers on the desktop, then began to search through the desk drawers. He pawed through a pile of authorizations, then lifted a chain from which a circular disk dangled. “Is this a medallion?”
    “It is,” the voice replied. Sven hung the chain around his neck. “You may now enter the door marked security in the hallway that leads from the lobby into the garden. You will be issued your weapon there.”
    Sven rummaged in the drawer, then handed Nita another disk. “That was easy enough.”
    Too easy, she thought; Llipel and Llare had to know about these weapons. Could that mean they had intended no harm? Or had they only supposed that their